Cruise Control
by The lunatic who cares
Summary: After Wally catches Batman stealing Bruce Wayne's DNA sample from his forensics lab he is detemined to work out why, not knowing that they are one and the same man. Bruce knows who Wally is but isn't willing to reveal his own idenity. BatFlash eventually
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
****Notes:** This has been lurking around my computer for some time now, but I got distracted by many other things. I recently, randomly started having a JL craving again and picked this one back up. I have no idea how long it'll take me to finish it, cause I know some of my other fics will take priority... but well, yeah. So this would be set before Starcrossed and will be very much Bat/Flash. EDIT: I have changed this little, as in it is now Kyle Rayner rather than John

xxx

He sighed but there was no alternative, no way out of the situation. Every other single customer and member of staff was being swabbed to rule out their DNA from the crime scene and it would look very conspicuous if Bruce Wayne made a huge fuss over such a little thing. Bruce may not have minded, but the man behind Batman hated the idea of his DNA being on file in case some smart alec had Batman's DNA and then stumbled across the match. The dark eyes narrowed. Gotham's finest would have a visitor this night, though they would never notice. One sample of DNA would have just been irrevocably misplaced.

A loud cheerful voice sounded out from further down the line of expensively dressed people who were waiting to be swabbed and Bruce leant forward a little in his seat, trying to find the owner. Cheerful, at a crime scene, wasn't a common occurrence and certainly not in Gotham. A man in a white coat, with a silver case was crouched down, cotton bud in his fingers as he swiped it over the inside of a woman's cheeks. Bruce noted he never stopped talking as he did so, reassuring the woman it was just routine and there, it hadn't taken a moment.

He moved onto the next person as a police officer escorted the woman to the door. The millionaire continued to watch the forensics man work. When he had stood Bruce had calculated him to be shorter than his six foot two, perhaps just six foot and couldn't have missed the shock of red hair.

As he drew closer, Bruce frowned. The voice sounded painfully familiar, just brushing against something in his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it yet. Where had he heard that voice before, set with that lilt and accent? Pouring through his memories, Bruce had dismissed everyone at his work by the time the scientist reached him and looked up to meet the bright green eyes.

"Good evening," Bruce said levelly.

"Hey," the young man smiled back, crouching on his heels as he dug out another tube with it cotton bud. "Right, so what I'm going to need you to do is…"

"I heard it the last ten times you repeated it."

The young man flushed slightly but nodded cheerfully,

"Fair enough."

He held up the cotton bud and Bruce obligingly opened his mouth, trying to ignore the horrible dry feeling as the fluff ball was efficiently swiped across one cheek.

"There all done."

As he plopped the stick back in its container, Bruce had this urge to find out exactly who he was. He reasoned it would just annoy him if he didn't know and nothing would stop Bruce Wayne asking someone their name.

"I haven't seen you around before."

The young man looked up sharply, surprise on his face,

"No I'm new. Just covering for someone for a few months. I come from Central City." He pulled a pen and a label out. "Your name please?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow. He really was new if he had to ask that.

"Bruce Wayne and yours?"

Green eyes glanced up momentarily before he started squeezing the name onto the label,

"Wally West."

Instant recognition flooded through Bruce and all the little pieces slotted into place. He knew where he'd heard that voice before. He spent an inordinate amount of time in this man's company, only he called himself The Flash then and only knew Bruce as Batman. Flash didn't realise that Bruce knew each member of the Justice League's secret identities, if they had one. Nothing of those thoughts past over his face though and he simply nodded.

"And I'm done!" Wally suddenly announced. "You're my last guy tonight. Better get these babies back to the lab." He lifted the case up as he spoke. Bruce stood as Wally did and held out his hand,

"It was a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully I will have no cause to meet you again, Mr West."

"Please Wally," the man shook his hand, rubber gloves still in place. "And that sounds like a good plan."

Bruce watched him walk away, a small smile on his face. Wally would never know that he had just seen something so many people, including, he suspected, himself, were dying to see; the real face under the Batman mask. As an officer escorted him out the door, Bruce caught a glance of Wally climbing into an SUV with some other crime scene investigators, heading back to Gotham police laboratories, where, in a few hours, Batman would be going.

xxx

Batman glanced skywards, waiting for the bright moon to be shrouded by the scuttling clouds. It wasn't the best night to be breaking in to a high security building, but one could argue it kept his skills sharp. As light faded, he cracked up the skylight window, already having disabled the alarm for it, and dropped inside. His photographic memory drew up the layout of building and he silently headed down the corridor, slipped down the stairs one floor and into the analysis department. The lights were off, no one was home this late and he found the door to lab without incident, though someone had taken the care to actually lock the door behind them as they left.

Bruce knelt next to the lock, drawing his equipment from one belt pouch, and set to work. It wasn't a complicated mechanism and the dead lock soon snapped back. He pushed open the door, entered and shut the door behind him with a soft click, before the dark figure headed over to the bench opposite the door, where rows of tubes were set out. Quickly he sorted through them, looking for Bruce Wayne on the labels, but it took up precious time as they appeared to be in no order and there was close to sixty samples.

Just as his fingers closed on the right sample he heard footsteps in the corridor and then the door handle moved. He swung to face the door, sample in hand as a man's voice remarked,

"Huh, I could have sworn I locked that."

The world had to be playing with him as he met Wally's eyes, but he kept a blank face, though Wally couldn't.

"Bats! Errrr I mean, Batman! What are you… Are you stealing my samples?"

Batman slid the test tube into his belt, trying to keep the almost guilty feeling under wraps,

"There is a perfectly good reason for my actions."

Wally frowned, eyes lingering on the belt,

"Which you're not going to tell me."

"How perceptive of you, considering you don't know me."

Wally flushed and Bruce could almost hear the panicked thoughts running around his skull. Flash had always been easy for him to read, but Bruce hadn't realised quite how much emotion past through the younger mans eyes and just how useful the opaque lens on his mask were for hiding them.

Bruce took a step towards Wally and the door, mentally cursing that this was an internal lab with no windows to the outside. Wally straightened immediately, one hand going towards him and Bruce stopped. He had no doubt the other man could take him, if he really wanted to, but that would mean Wally revealing his other identity to Batman. Curiosity made Bruce start walking again. The red haired man didn't move out of his way, but looked decidedly unsure.

"Look, I shouldn't let you take that. You're a good guy aren't you and, anyway, I'll be able to work out which one you've taken once you're gone."

Bruce had to admit that was true and suspected Wally was quick enough to make some connections Bruce really didn't want him making. He had to give him something to chew on, so he dug the vial out of his belt, holding it out so Wally could see the name.

"I give you my word this man is not involved in your case."

The green eyes narrowed as he read the name,

"Maybe, but why are _you_ sneaking in here to steal it, if he's not involved?"

"Because I have an agreement with him. There is information he can provide me with when I need it and return, I do what I need to for him," the tube was returned to his belt.

"That sounds kinda like a bad business deal, if it means you stealing from cops and all," Wally argued, arms folding across his chest.

"I get more from Bruce Wayne than he does from Batman," he didn't mean his voice to sound quite so bitter, but the damage was done and Wally's face softened.

"Guess you have to make the difficult decisions, always do."

The red haired man stepped to one side, showing him the empty doorway. Batman nodded once, as much as he would do to say thank you, stepping past him and into the corridor. As he strode away, he heard a hushed voice say,

"Won't stop me paying this Bruce Wayne a visit though."

Batman disappeared through a door, out of Wally's sight and out of the building, before he let himself think about that last comment. If he couldn't get Wally to stop sniffing around Bruce Wayne, then there was a good chance he would discover the connection between the millionaire and the dark knight of Gotham. Now, whilst it wasn't as disastrous as, say, a crime lord finding out, it would still be more information than Bruce would want someone else having. His trust in people, even those in the Justice League, was tainted and limited.

An image of Flash, smiling and joking, raced through his mind. Everyone discounted the speedster on account of his bad one liners and constant positivity, but Bruce could see beyond that mask to the brave, intelligent man beneath. The dark haired man wore enough of his own masks to see beneath other peoples, but it left him with the distinct impression that getting Flash to leave this alone was going to be nigh impossible, unless the world suddenly had another apocalypse.

An insistent beep and flashing light was his greeting as Bruce entered the Batcave and he stalked over to the console to punch open the connection to the Watchtower. J'onn's face appeared on the monitor.

"Batman. We have an emergency, just outside of Gotham."

Bruce bit back a noise of frustration and nodded,

"Send me the co-ordinates and I shall be there as quickly as I can."

J'onn tapped something out and the numbers appeared on the screen. Bruce quickly downloaded them to his car,

"Who else is attending?"

"I have sent Green Lantern and Flash, as the others are currently battling a forest fire in southern Australia," J'onn replied. "I shall stay here in case I am needed else where."

Bruce later decided, as he dodged a thrown car and rolled to the nearest cover, tonight was not going well. Flash zoomed past the monsters legs, distracting it for long enough for Green Lantern to knock it off its feet with a green fist. The thing simply bellowed angrily and climbed straight back to its three feet, hurling a car at the hovering hero.

"I get knocked down, but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down."

"Flash that is not helping," Bruce muttered as the red body dived into his cover.

"Aw c'mon Bats," Flash grinned. "It's our monster theme tune!"

"How about, instead of giving him tunes, you find a way to defeat him?" Bruce asked dryly.

"Already have. Watch."

With that he sped off, weaving his way down the chaotic street to plough into one of the things legs, making it take a step back. It shrieked in pain and wrenched its foot up immediately. For a moment Bruce thought Flash had hurt it with his strike, but then he saw the liquid dripping off the bottom of its foot.

"Water."

"Yup!" Flash skidded to a stop beside him. "Can't stand the stuff apparently."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, searching the street until he found what he wanted,

"Get him next to the hydrant, I'll blow it and Lantern can create a bubble around it so it can't escape the water."

"On it!" Flash gave him a thumbs up. "Hey GL, rolling out a plan here. Get ready!"

"Do I get to know about this plan first?" Kyle asked as he zigzagged around in the air, eyes never leaving the grey monster.

"You'll catch on," was the response a red blur moved in on the three legs, targeting one, then the next, driving the beast down the road until it was next to the hydrant. Batman threw the batarang with his usual perfect aim, giving the lightning quick hero plenty of time to get out of the way. There was a bright flare of light and a boom as the top of the hydrant was blown apart. A jet of water rocketed skywards, spraying the monster with liquid. It screeched and began to move away from the water, but a green barrier stopped it abruptly. Flash had been perfectly right about Kyle catching on, because the barrier curved around every side of the monster and the opaque bubble quickly filled with water.

"Ouch," Flash remarked as he drew to a halt next to Batman. "Not a nice way to go, drowning in what amounts to acid for butt ugly there."

"The being didn't appear to have any sentience and I'm not having a rogue killing machine wandering around Gotham. I have enough to deal with."

"Jees, grumpy tonight Bats. Drop off the ceiling the wrong way, or something, tonight?" Flash smirked.

Bruce flashed him an irritated look that was hidden by his mask. Even so, Flash seemed to be able to read it and his smile grew. Bat bating was so much fun, even if Batman could be really creepy sometimes. Green Lantern landed beside the pair, wiping sweat from his brow as they watched the monster dissolved into a sludge puddle that slowly oozed away down the drain.

"One disaster averted. You got here quick Wally, J'onn said you were already in the area," Kyle let the green light fade.

One red shoulder shrugged,

"I was out for a run." Flash held out his hands, gesturing around. "It kinda gets boring running around the same city all the time."

"Lantern to Watchtower," Kyle pressed his finger to his comm., rolling his eyes at Flash.

"J'onn here."

"We melted the monster. How are the others doing?"

"Superman just reported in. The fire has been contained and they are putting the last of it out at the moment. You can return to the Watchtower."

"Score for the good guys!" Flash punched the air. "Man, I'm hungry. Hey Bats, anywhere good to eat round here?"

Bruce frowned,

"A few, but they are either overly expensive or I wouldn't recommend you going there."

"Not friendly neighbourhoods?" Flash glanced around.

"Gotham isn't known for its welcoming attitude," Batman replied dryly.

"You really gotta work on that Bats," a red hand patted Bruce's shoulder before it was whisked away. Flash snapped his fingers. "I just remembered. I've got a house call to make."

"Visting the kids again?" Kyle asked, referring to the orphanage that Flash regularly took time out to drop in on.

The young man just smiled in response before he zipped off. Bruce had a very good idea just where Flash was heading and was already running calculations on how long the other man would have been at Wayne Manor before he got home. Poor Alfred. The Dark Knight nodded farewell to Green Lantern as he rose into the air, heading back to his car.

It didn't take long for him to secure the Batmobile, change clothes and slip up the stairs into the mansion proper. He paused, listening, and identified that there were voices coming from the main lounge down the corridor and Bruce swiftly walked towards them. As he came through the doorway, Alfred met his eyes, a slightly relived look in his eyes and politely interrupted the flow of words pouring from their guest.

"Mr West, Mr Wayne has arrived now. I shall leave you to discuss business," Alfred dipped his head slightly before disappearing out the room.

Wally turned to face Bruce, a cheerful grin on his face,

"You didn't tell me you lived in a castle."

Bruce smiled slightly,

"Most people in Gotham know about Wayne Manor." Wally shrugged and the millionaire continued. "So what can I do for you, Wally?"

The smile faded somewhat and the red haired man spoke seriously,

"Batman."

"What about him?" Bruce feigned ignorance.

Wally frowned,

"I caught him stealing your sample out of the police lab earlier this evening and he said he had an agreement with you."

Bruce gestured to another door,

"Ah yes, that. Would you like to play a game of pool while we talk?"

"You've got a pool table?" Wally followed Bruce through into the games room. "Wait, stop distracting me."

Bruce racked up the balls and handed Wally a cue,

"I wouldn't do that. You can break."

"Fine, we can play it your way," Wally scowled as he vigorously rubbed the green chalk onto the cue tip before bending down to line up his shot. "So come on, why's Batman stealing your DNA out of police labs?"

Bruce leant against the edge of the table, chalking up his own cue,

"We have an agreement."

There was a sharp crack as Wally hit the cue ball, sending it racing down the table, where it scattered the balls wildly around the table and potting a striped ball. He grinned before shaking his head,

"Yeah he said that."

"It wouldn't be very good if I told random strangers about my business deals now would it?" Bruce watched Wally line up his next shot.

"I'm not a random stranger."

"No?" a dark eyebrow quirked skyward.

"Nah, you know my name, I know yours. I'm playing pool in your castle…"

"Manor," Bruce corrected.

"…Castle."

The younger man missed his shot and let Bruce take over.

"Random partial stranger."

Wally twirled the pool cue,

"Yeah, well, alright, got me on that one."

Bruce potted a spotted ball and began lining up another before Wally levelled his cue at him from across the table. The dark haired man raised his eyebrows at him but continued with his shot anyway.

"You said you wouldn't distract me. Stop getting me off topic! Batman!"

"I told you I don't tell strangers about my business deals," a spotted ball thunked into a pocket.

Wally scowled,

"I could call the police in on this, tell them what I saw, what Batman said."

Bruce smiled broadly,

"It would be your word against the word of a masked man who's rarely seen in public and trying to connect that to me, well good luck with that."

The red haired man tapped the butt of his cue against the floor in an annoying way,

"So you're not going to tell me and deny ever having any connections to Batman."

"You seem to be out of options," Bruce missed his next shot and let Wally take over again.

"Not quite," a cheeky smile lit up the younger man's face and green eyes glanced up at him. Bruce raised an eyebrow as he leant one hip against the table and waited. He knew he had more patience than Wally and he wasn't wrong because Wally was soon opening his mouth to tell him what he had thought of. "You said you wouldn't tell a stranger, so I'll just have to hang around enough not to be."

"An uninvited guest on a regular basis, Alfred will be thrilled," Bruce answered deadpan.

"See another reason why you live in a freaking castle, you have a freaking butler!" Wally waved his cue at him.

"He certainly will be freaking shortly," Bruce quipped, feeling a real smile settle onto his face. It felt good to be more himself around Wally. Flash was always kind and open to everyone and getting to know the man behind the mask was actually pleasurable.

Wally couldn't help the answering grin on his face when Bruce smiled properly for the first time. This Bruce wasn't quite who he expected him to be. As soon as he had seen the size of the house he'd been waiting for a snobby person to tell him to get lost, but the butler, Alfred, had merely invited him in and stayed with him, making polite conversation until Bruce had arrived. The dark haired millionaire was clever, far cleverer than Wally would have given him credit for. He'd done a little back ground check before he'd sped over here and the word was playboy, flashy with his money, always with a girl in tow and a fast car to drive. This Bruce seemed down to earth, quick and with a dead pan sense of humour Wally found appealing, but there was something, beneath all of that, which seemed dark. He was hiding one hell of a secret, the red head was positive on that one and considering he was here because of _Batman_, well it had to do with that. Wally wasn't the detective Batman was, but he worked in forensics. He could put a trail of clues together into one whole picture and this Bruce Wayne wasn't getting away from him that easily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
Notes:** You can all thank Jazyrha for poking, prodding, pesturing, begging and flat out bribing me to continue this story. Love you girl :P Many thanks as always to my other half xRae Asakurax for the beta.

xxx

The fire was burning hotter than Bruce would have thought possible in a residential structure; someone had been storing illegal chemicals here, that was for certain, but he didn't have time to think about that now. There was still a person trapped in here and he, at the moment, was the closest to them. He held the cape closer to his face to protect it from the flames as he dodged to the next room to check it for people. His thermal scanner was useless in this inferno so he was having to manually search every room and it was taking too long. There were too many rooms, too many floors and Bruce didn't know where the missing person was.

His mind suddenly flashed back to Wally and the first time he had come across people, children, killed by a fire. He had been so shocked, so traumatised by something that he should have been able to take in his stride as a hero, but couldn't because he was that untainted by evil. How he had been a superhero for nigh on ten years before he had seen dead children, Bruce couldn't fathom. Luck was a fickle mistress for some people.

Bruce shook his head, casting the image away, but not before it reminded him he couldn't let anyone die, not on his watch, not in his city, not when he was this close. He sped his movements up, despite the inherent danger in such an act and kicked down the next door. This flat wasn't quite as full of thick acrid smoke as the corridor was and Bruce took the chance to take a deeper breath as he searched the apartment. It was strikingly similar to the one Wally owned back in Central City; layout, age, price of the build. Of course Bruce knew all this because every superhero's home had been investigated, bugged if he thought necessary, and every detail noted. He'd been about to give up on this one when he heard a cough and the next instant the door to the airing cupboard was flying back on its hinges to reveal a petite blonde haired woman curled into a small ball on the floor within.

Batman laid a pair of fingers on her neck to gauge her pulse and breathing for a moment and the touch of his glove startled the woman. Her head jerked up, making her cough again, but once she stopped a pair of startling green eyes stared up at him. Bruce instantly saw them, and matched them in colour to the Flash's, then dismissed the comparison. He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation, which didn't often happen to Batman. His persona meant that many ordinary citizens held a little bit of fear before them when they saw him. With her free hand she clutched a worn stuffed dog toy to her chest, a treasured memento of a childhood filled with love, something a grown woman should have let go of years ago.

The armour clad man tucked her close into his body, sheltering her with his cape as he guided her to a window, which he smashed out with a well aimed boot. Bruce ordered her to hold onto him as he fired his line at the building opposite. He made sure she was secured by tightening his free arm around her waist the moment before they were jumping out the window and sailing down to the street below. The landing was light, Bruce took all the shock of it through his own legs before setting her down, but she had inhaled enough smoke that she started coughing again and he let the paramedics running towards them take her. He automatically noted which hospital they belonged to, who the medics were, what they looked like; one even had red hair like Wally's, though perhaps not the same vibrancy.

That thought made Bruce narrow his eyes. Why was Wally West constantly invading his thoughts this evening? Everything he saw he was drawing comparisons to the Flash and his mind should not have been so distracted in the middle of a mission, even on one so ordinary and low-key. He had merely being filling his time patrolling Gotham before his shift on the WatchTower began. There were recalibrations to do to the orbit stabilising system and he'd been meaning to do them for some time now. In truth he could have easily past them to J'onn, but he felt safer doing them himself. Annoyed at the distractions he'd let himself be a subject to this evening, he decided he might as well skip the time waiting and clear the noise and thoughts of Flash from his mind. He brought his hand to his ear, activating the comm. link placed there.

"Batman to Watchtower, one to teleport."

Only moments later, Bruce felt the feeling of the teleportation taking place. He disliked the feeling, preferring to take the plane, even with the time that wasted. It seemed safer than having his molecules taken apart and reassembled like that. There was too much that could go wrong, too much out of his control. The tall man felt the familiar wave of nausea hit him as well, a feeling he didn't think he'd ever get over, but he swallowed it back, inspecting the Watchtower on reflex. Once reassured it was empty, without a sound he stalked off to his destination.

Bruce tried to control the troubled feeling, the pressure in his chest. It wasn't really something he would get troubled about, but he never truly liked change either, and for him to start thinking of Flash, and keep thinking of him, in the middle of a mission, it wasn't like him. Bruce scowled. Here he was, doing it again.

The Batman sat down on the chair, placed before the console he needed, shook his head lightly as if physically trying to get out the image, and concentrated on the numbers and maths. Gloved fingers danced over the buttons quickly and accurately, calling up the right calibrations and then another set of numbers on the Earth's rotation. Complex physics and mathematics scrolled down the screens.

"Hey Bats!"

Bruce concealed the flash of annoyance at the name. He would have thought after hearing it so much that he'd be immune to it by now, but perhaps it was merely Flash's talent to annoy him when no one else could, or perhaps it was because Wally had been on his mind all evening.

"What do you want?"

"Do you know what I just found out?" A red clad butt plonked itself down on the console right next to him and Batman wondered just how he was suppose to get on with his work now. He lifted his eyes up to glare at Wally, who was too busy munching on a doughnut to notice. "Someone organised the rota so a) you've got a night off and b) we've got a night off at the same time, so I know it wasn't you."

"What is your point?"

"It's been deader than a dead dodo. No bad guys trying to end the world and all that, so I'm going to be bored tonight." The last of the doughnut disappeared. "Wanna do something?"

"With you?" Bruce raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah," Wally shrugged. "You're always complaining how Gotham's so much work."

"I do not complain."

The younger man snorted. "Says you! C'mon I could help you out. Round up a few bad guys for you, let you scare the pants off them. It'll be better than watching TV."

"I'm sure the inhabitants of Gotham are quaking in their shoes at the mere thought," Bruce returned. "Go home Flash. Enjoy your time off."

The speedster pouted. "You're no fun."

Bruce didn't dignify that with a response.

"And anyway," Wally sat up straighter. "It's your night off too! Don't make me drag you out of here."

"My shift does not end for another hour, which gives me plenty of time to calibrate this system." The dark hero turned back to his station.

"I bet you do that in your Batcave, for fun." The Flash gave him an annoyed look.

"That is my choice," Batman responded, fingers carefully pressing buttons. "It _is_ my cave."

"Man, do you ever get out?"

"When it is required."

"And is it tonight?" Wally leaned in closer.

"No," Bruce shook his head briefly.

"I bet you never go out for fun. You just sit in that dank, dark, smelly cave of yours and brood." The Flash folded his arms.

"Firstly the Batcave does not smell." Bruce gave him a level look. "And secondly that is none of your business."

The younger man's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I _dare_ you to go out and do something fun this evening."

"Or what?" Bruce realised he shouldn't have uttered a word when he watched Wally's face light up with mischievous glee. He should have just ignored him.

"Or I am calling you Chickenman from now on!" A big grin split his face. "And that means you'll just have to change your costume."

Batman nearly opened his mouth to threaten Flash if he dared to touch his outfit, but he knew that would just mean a worse result. Once he would have turned straight back to his console and paid no heed to the younger hero, but for the sake of his sanity, and a little bit of his pride, he couldn't let Wally call him… that.

"Just how will you know I've been out?"

"I trust you. If you say you will, you will." Wally shrugged. He knew Batman kept his word if he gave it.

"I'll go out tonight," Bruce muttered darkly.

"See? Now that wasn't hard was it?" A red hand patted him on his shoulder for a split second before Flash sped off, calling, "See you later Bats!"

Bruce felt like beating his head against the console, but that wouldn't have been dignified nor would it be something Batman would ever do. Then again, when was it ever Batman's style to let the Flash manipulating him into agreeing to anything as trivial as going out, just for the sake of it. Bruce had to put it down to the amount of time he had spent in Wally's company recently. Alfred frequently called him when he was out to inform him his 'guest' was back again and would he mind terribly picking up some more groceries on the way home because he was eating everything in sight. He was glad none of Gotham's low life had seen Batman shopping, because that would ruin his image.

It didn't seem to matter what time of the day or night it was, if Wally was free, he seemed to around Wayne Manor and Bruce felt he should be annoyed at the red head for intruding so much and taking up so much of his free time, but he found himself enjoying the company too much. Wally was an honest guy, open and friendly and so very different to Bruce's usual social circle he was forced to keep as head of Wayne Enterprises and a millionaire bachelor. Alfred had once told him he might have fun as Bruce Wayne, rather than having a non-existent social life, but it had taken the appearance of Wally West into his life to turn it into something more than an acting front. He hadn't intruded into the 'Batman' time of his life either, because as soon as Bruce said he needed to work, Wally had amiably agreed to leave without fuss.

Bruce frowned at his console. Wally had said 'fun'. That would be pushing it and he had only agreed to go out, but that would be spoiling Wally's idea and he wouldn't out right lie to the younger man if he asked. Silence wasn't a lie. He also hadn't specified who's brand of fun, because Bruce had no doubt theirs were very different, but Bruce was also aware there was no way he could be as spontaneous as Wally would be in his search for fun. He would just have to play it the way he considered a good evening out.

xxx

The dark haired man gracefully slid from the low seat of his Lamborghini Murcielago LP640, before sliding the door down and stepping towards restaurant, looking back over his shoulder as he checked the car locked. Someone collided with shoulder as he did so, instantly apologising.

"'Scuse me…. Oh Bruce!"

The man in question actually looked at the person who had bumped into him on the pavement and was surprised to meet Wally's green eyes. He had to hold back the automatic reaction of stating he'd told Wally to go _home_ earlier. The red head grinned.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"I do live in Gotham."

Wally snorted. "No you live in a giant ass castle so far on the outskirts it borders on another country."

"I do not…" Bruce stopped himself before it dissolved into a childish argument. "So what are you doing here?"

"Out for a walk."

"By yourself?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Wally shrugged. "So I don't have a date. How 'bout you?"

"I came here to eat." He nodded at the restaurant they stood outside.

"By yourself?" the other man shot the expensive place a look.

"I normally find myself with company before…"

"Bruce Wayne!"

"Mr Wayne!"

"Bruce!"

Wally turned and both of the men watched a horde of reporters descend towards them.

"…long. Why do they always roam in packs?" Bruce muttered before smiling for the cameras. He had an image to maintain.

"Mr Popular," Wally smirked and then the mob was on them, cameras flashing, recorders being shoved in their faces and every voice asking a multitude of questions.

"…comment on the stocks for…"

"…reports of internal problems…"

"…this a new friend or more…"

The last one caught Bruce's attention and he frowned at the small woman who had asked it, recognising her as a reporter from one of the more greasy tabloids that seemed obsessed with just who he spent his recreational time with. Wally was blinking at the mass of people pressing around him and Bruce acted before he could open his mouth and really drop them in it. He had seen enough of Flash's impromptu public interviews. With one hand he snagged Wally's wrist and dragged him out of the horde, towards the restaurant, where the reporters weren't allowed to pester the customers.

Wally stumbled along behind, too bemused to complain or argue and by the time he had sorted himself out, they were standing in the spacious lobby and a waiter was heading towards them. The red head tugged his hand free from Bruce's grip and attempted to smarten himself up, feeling somewhat conspicuous in his jeans and fleece. He tried to comb his hair through with his fingers but his abductor stopped him.

"Don't worry about it. They won't say anything, nor will they care." He nodded at a decorative fountain and pool. "Last time I was here the two women I was with ended up in there. You being underdressed is the least of my transgressions."

"Good evening sir." The immaculately dressed _maître d'hotel_ bobbed his head. Wally didn't feel any better.

"Good evening Simon," Bruce returned. "Just the two of us tonight."

The head waiter glanced through the glass doors at the security personnel ushering the reporters away. "Of course sir. If you would follow me please."

Wally followed Bruce and the _maître d'_, trying not to gape at the luxurious fittings and the sheer amount of money dripping from every surface. It wasn't like he expected Bruce Wayne to eat out anywhere less posh, but this was so far out of Wally's comfort, and price, range that it was hard not stare. Wally actually stopped to stare at the lobsters idling in the bottom of their huge glass tank before he remembered he was supposed to be following Bruce and Simon. He slid into silk covered seat, eyes taking in the linen napkins, leather bound wine list, actual candle and promptly sat on his hands.

Bruce took his menu from Simon and hid a smile with it when Wally fidgeted with his own. Simon bowed slightly as he left them, another waiter already appearing to serve them ice water. The red head waited until they were alone before hissing, "What the hell are you thinking, bringing me in here?"

Bruce leant back in his chair, placing the menu down. He already knew its contents. "What's wrong with you being here?"

"This is so not my scene." Wally's green eyes darted around the room. "And you know what I do, this is one place I got warned away from!"

Bruce tilted his head slightly. "You've not been here long enough for people to know who you are."

Wally flipped through the pages in the menu, annoyed and trying not to drool at the list of food. "I eat like a horse… ten horses."

"And you know I can afford it," the dark haired man chuckled. "Relax, enjoy yourself."

"Why am I here?" Wally muttered into his menu, trying to pick between the steaks.

"You'll keep some of the more unsavoury characters away."

"Oh, gee, thanks," came the reply from behind the carte du jour. "What, do I smell or something?"

"I said they were unsavoury, not you."

Wally looked over the top of his menu at that. "Er, thanks."

The guys at work, rough as they were, had told him a few little things about the city's millionaire: Playboy, partier, absolutely no respect for the rules, somewhat of a snob, threw his money at everything. Why was he telling Wally, a police forensics officer, that he wasn't bad company, unless he wanted something from him? Wally's mind played back what Batman had told him; a business deal. Maybe Batman had warned Bruce about being caught stealing his DNA sample.

Wally ran that through his head again. Batman admit something went wrong? He swallowed a snort. So unlikely! Before Bruce could see him grinning Wally ducked back down behind his menu again and decided one thing: There was no way in hell he was going to be able to pick what he wanted to eat. He fancied everything on the menu, except maybe that vegetarian thing with aubergines. Eggplants reminded him of aliens now, he'd seen too many. Aliens, that was.

"So what are you having?" Bruce asked.

Wally frowned, downing his menu. "You pick. I can't decide."

Bruce didn't let the shock show, covering it with amusement. He knew Wally wasn't fussed what he had to eat, as long as it was fast and there was sugar at the end of it, but he had often filled his plate and eaten most of it before anyone else could read half of what was available. The Flash stuck on what to eat. That was a new one.

The millionaire looked across the restaurant, catching Simon's eye. The _maître d'_ glided to their table, and waited patiently. Bruce couldn't help be tease Wally by ordering in French, leaving the young man staring at him widely, whilst their waiter simply nodded. As soon as Simon was gone Wally hissed, "If you've just ordered me snails I'm going to stick them down your shirt!"

"Did you see snails on the menu?"

"No, but it also wasn't written in French!" Wally pointed out.

Bruce shrugged, smiling. "So far I haven't known you to turn any food down, regardless of what it is."

"Well no but I can't eat snails on principle," the red hair bounced as he shook his head. "They're too slow to run away from being eaten."

Bruce couldn't help the snort of laughter at that one. Wally grinned at him, always seeming pleased when he could get the other man to smile or laugh, but Bruce just knew that was part of Wally's nature to please. He wouldn't have understood that Bruce read the real meaning behind that comment. Everything was too slow to run away from the Flash and Bruce suspected that a lot of animals would willing go to Wally, with his bright, open personality and aura of warmth and friendliness.

The wait for the meal to arrive past in no time at all and Wally, at first, was embarrassed Bruce had ordered him double his own meal, but was soon tucking in with clear enjoyment. Occasionally Bruce reprimanded Wally gently, telling him to enjoy it more rather than just clear his plate without breathing. The red head would give him a guilty smile, stop eating and ask a friendly question, almost like he was waiting for the opportunity to do so. One of them was, "What you got?"

Bruce paused, the fork half way to his mouth, and couldn't resist the urge to tease with something he knew would go way over Wally's head.

"Escargots Bourguignonne."

Wally stared at him. "Say what?"

"Basically, fancy Italian ham." Then he held out his hand, fork and food still there and offered it to Wally. "Here, try some."

Wally downed his own cutlery to lean across the table and accept the mouthful. Bruce abruptly was fixated on the way his full lips closed over the fork and then slid away from him down the metal. The younger man licked his lips, catching a stray morsel and Bruce abruptly felt hot, making him want to jerk his gaze away but it was too late when his eyes met Wally's. A smile, perhaps a little too slow and deliberate, curved those suddenly fascinating lips upwards as Wally swallowed.

"That was delicious."

Bruce nodded, directing his gaze back down to his plate, covering his change in mood with easy conversation. "The head chef here is one of the best in the country."

Wally answered and Bruce let him take control of the conversation, leaving him to ramble happily. Bruce couldn't explain why he'd offered Wally his food, or rather why he had done it in such a romantic manner. Wally had clearly caught onto that fact and thought he was deliberately flirting with him because of the way he had responded, which had to mean that the red head found him attractive. It wasn't like that bothered Bruce, who was used to people flirting with him, mostly to get at his money, but more his own reaction. He had learnt to keep work and pleasure separate. Why he had suddenly crossed that line was unfathomable and worrying. It also came as a surprise that Wally would flirt with _Bruce_ because he knew he wouldn't be interested in his money, so it was the man he was actually interested in.

Bruce also knew that he couldn't dwell on it. Wally would eventually pick up on his self reflection and ask him what was troubling him, which Bruce didn't want to get drawn into, so he pushed his feelings to one side and let Wally's happiness draw him back. A pleasant meal out in company he didn't have to watch every word around was a rare occurrence and the last thing the older man wanted to do was spoil it with an emotional reaction he shouldn't feel.

The Speedster demolished his meal, and then several puddings, whilst still talking, leaving Bruce to savour the single glass of wine he was indulging in. One glass drunk over the course of a meal for someone of his body mass and with his training, didn't affect him enough to dull or slow his senses.

Wally finished his story, which had, somehow, drifted to be about an old woman on the first floor of his flat who baked the most delicious chocolate cakes, according to him. He ended the story with a joke, Bruce smiling slightly, Wally chuckling but when his laughter faded his eyes awkwardly went to his now empty plate and then danced across the room. Now that he'd finished eating, Bruce could see how a slight discomfort at being 'out of place' had started taking hold of Wally again. The redhead was fidgeting slightly. The plate was completely clean and Bruce idly wondered if it'd be the only thing Wally didn't leave in a complete mess.

"Would you like to go?" Bruce inquired politely. Wally smiled at him over the table, brightly, nodding all at the same time. Bruce signed for Simon, telling him to put the dinner on his tab as usual; it wouldn't be long before he was back here anyway and it wasn't like they didn't know he could cover everyone's meals for years.

Wally followed Bruce outside, feeling the pressure of blending in fall from his shoulders. He had loved every minute he'd spend with Bruce, but the place still gave him the creeps. The speedster felt like he could damage something to the point of no return by simply _breathing _too hard.  
The cold air hit him like a wake up call, and he automatically looked around for lurking reporters like before. Luckily it seemed that they had dispersed by the restaurant's security and he relaxed.

"Well thanks for that." Wally shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "I haven't eaten that well in ages." Bruce waited, sensing there was more. "You wanna come for a walk with me or something? I mean exercise is supposed to be good for after you've eaten right?" Wally didn't get why he suddenly felt nervous asking. It's not like he would have been asking any other friend he had.

"Alright," Bruce nodded.

Wally smiled brightly at him before glancing up and down the street. His innate good sense of direction kicked in and the red head turned towards Gotham's largest park. Bruce fell into step beside him, content enough to walk in silence, though a glance to his right showed Wally was fidgeting. He probably thought he talked too much and didn't want to annoy Bruce more. One thing he hadn't learnt about the younger man was he may talk openly, candidly, about many things, but he often kept his personal feelings hidden. Wally could lose you in what he said, saying so much, that you'd miss that little fact. Apparently the red head didn't want to irritate Bruce but he had actually, in all the time he'd spent trespassing on Bruce's time and home, not once been annoying enough to get himself cast aside.

"How is your work going?" Bruce asked, trying to reassure Wally that he could talk, though picking a subject was trickier than he thought.

Wally glanced across at him. "Good, I guess. Working in Gotham isn't anything like working in Central City. I mean, like the case load is massive."

"There are more crimes here," Bruce acknowledged. "The city needs help."

"Some people are helping," Wally replied. "Or they are supposed to be. Still don't get how stealing police evidence is _helping_, but you'd know more about that than I do."

One black eyebrow shot up Bruce's face. "Are you implying I steal?"

The younger man made a face. "No, but I _will_ get to the bottom of why Batman was nabbing your DNA out of my lab." He grinned suddenly. "You know, I think I've been hanging around long enough not qualify as a stranger any more."

"Do you?" Bruce tried not to smile back. "I certainly know a lot about you, that is true."

Wally scowled, though Bruce could see there was no real feeling behind it, before it slowly changed back into a smile, one that said he'd thought of something Bruce hadn't. "Even if I don't know you as well as you think you know me, that still takes me out of the stranger category, so give it up Mr Billionaire." The red head nudged Bruce with his elbow, hands still buried in his pockets. The taller man hadn't realised Wally was walking so close at his side, yet didn't feel bothered by it even as the fact sank in. Wally's presence, even so close to him, was almost natural: the speedster was a tactile person anyway, and he didn't consider it invasive, despite that.

"Give what up?" Bruce did smile that time.

"You know what. Why Batman is stealing your DNA out of police labs." The speedster shot him a dirty look.

"He is?"

"Stop answering every question with a question!" Wally exclaimed, one hand coming out of his pocket to wave a finger at Bruce's face in warning.

"Am I?" Bruce gave Wally an innocent look, marred by the way the corner of his mouth twitched when Wally threw both hands in the air and looked skywards, crying, "Gah, so infuriating. Did you take lessons or something?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh my god, you're worse than _I_ am!" Wally stared at him before turning around so he was walking backwards, eyes locked on Bruce's face, heedless of the other people on the pavement as he jabbered away at the taller man, hands gesturing widely. Bruce was sure he was labelling him with all sorts of mildly derogatory terms as he vented his 'frustration', but the billionaire was more concerned about steering him through the crowd.

When he placed a hand on Wally's shoulder, the man barely paused, clearly accepting it in a blink of an eye. Bruce used subtle pressure to direct the red head around other people and Wally responded instantly. It was a display of trust that the dark haired man didn't think he'd earned. He'd been speaking the truth when he'd mentioned he knew more about Wally than the young man did about him. Almost every personal question had been answered with vague, non statements, though Wally had never really pegged him on it. As he guided Wally, he found himself hating that. There were things he could say, truthful things, without ever compromising his identity. There were things that belonged to Bruce, things that weren't connected to caves and bats and darkness. There were memories, happy ones that weren't stained with the blood spilled in dark allies. There were stories, experiences. There were things that weren't completely fake.

Bruce shook his head lightly and there was also the right time and place to think about them. They were clear of the crowds now, stepping into the darker park. The paths were lit with low level lights and the skyline was highlighted by the city lights beyond the trees. Once Bruce dropped his hand from Wally's shoulder the red head fell back into line with him for a moment, facing the right way and talking about something so completely different that it took even the fabled legendary lightning quick mind of Batman a moment to keep up.

Wally bounced around Bruce, circling him as he talked. Bruce watched him, wondering when the sugar would wear off or whether this was just normal behaviour when the red head wasn't racing around saving the world. As they crossed by a children's park both of them heard the quiet sniffles and turned to see a small girl sitting on one of the swings, face red from crying.

"One sec," Wally said just before he vaulted the railing into the park and went to sit on the swing next to the girl. "Hey there, what are you doing out so late?"

The blonde pigtails bounced as the girl looked up at him, scrubbing at her face to hide her tears. "Mom and Dad were fighting again." She pointed across the park. "I live over there. I'll go back when they've stopped."

Wally patted his pockets, frowning. He startled when a handkerchief appeared in his vision and he looked up to see Bruce holding it out, smiling gently. The younger man took it with a grin before passing it to the girl, who took it and snorted loudly into it.

"Is that why you were crying?"

She shook her head. "No. It's silly."

"I won't tell," Wally looked up at Bruce, a cheeky smile on his face. "You won't, will you Bruce?"

"Not a soul," Bruce swore solemnly, straight faced.

The girl nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment. "I can't swing by myself."

Bruce waited for more of an explanation, but that seemed to be it. Wally, on the other hand, understood straight away and nodded sagely.

"I remember when I couldn't either. What'd you say to my friend giving you a push and we'll see who can swing higher, you or me?"

The girl's face broke into a huge grin and she nodded rapidly, hands already wrapping around the chains with Bruce's handkerchief dangling from one fist. The red head jerked his head over at the girl. "C'mon Bruce. We're waiting."

Bruce stepped around behind them, whacking Wally on the head as he passed, before taking up his appointed position behind the girl, pulling back the swing ready. Wally was rubbing his skull, glaring at Bruce when the dark haired man said, "Ready, set, go!"

The little girl squealed as she went sailing out forwards, kicking her feet forward as she did so.

"Hey!" Wally exclaimed. "That's cheating!"

"Bet you can't catch up now," Bruce returned, straight face still in place as he pushed the girl again.

"You watch!"

As it was Wally let the little girl win and she left afterwards, a big smile in place, after presenting Bruce his now snotty handkerchief back. The younger man spun himself around in a circle on his swing, letting his feet drag through the bark so it revealed the dusty soil beneath.

"That was good of you, to let her win," Bruce commented as he pocketed the handkerchief.

Wally shot him a grin. "Nah, I let _you_ win." The standing man reached out to snag one of the swing chains, jerking the red head to a stop, before pulling it towards him. Wally waggled his feet, now clear of the floor. "You gonna push me now?" Bruce nodded before grabbing the bottom of the seat and upending it, dumping the younger man on floor and Wally let out a cry of indignation. "Hey! What was that for?"

Bruce raised one eyebrow at him. "Because."

"Oh right, now who's being childish?" Wally flicked a piece of bark at him, which missed and then climbed to his feet. Bruce felt a flicker of shock, followed by pain. He was never childish, he hadn't been childish since he was eight years old, when his childhood had died abruptly in an alleyway. Wally must have seen something on his face or in his body language, because the smile disappeared and he laid a concerned hand on Bruce's shoulder. "You ok?"

"Fine."

Wally blinked at the short tone, dropping his hand. "I'm sorry if I said anything to upset you."

"You didn't," Bruce said abruptly, walking away from the park and the image of a happy childhood. The younger man scurried after him until he was trotting sideways alongside him, watching him with wide, hurt green eyes. That tore at something in Bruce, even amidst his own pain. He was aware Wally didn't know about what exactly had happened to his parents, though how he'd managed not to stumble over it, he didn't understand. All Wally knew was that they were dead; he hadn't pushed for further information than that, so he wouldn't understand Bruce's abrupt silence. They had grown close enough; Bruce valued Wally's good opinion enough that the dark haired man felt he shouldn't leave Wally in the dark.

"Bruce?" his voice showed his confusion.

"I haven't been in a playground since I was nine, when my parents died." Blue eyes met green momentarily. "It brought back memories."

"Bad ones?" Wally stopped trying to skip sideways now Bruce was talking to him.

"No."

"Then why this? I mean, good memories make me smile, not run away."

"I'm not running away," Bruce snapped shortly.

The red head let out a snort, not perturbed by his friend's tone. "'Course not."

Bruce's mouth tightened into a thin line for a moment before he used his training to push away that hot anger, but his voice came out flat, dead, giving far more away than he'd meant. "My parents were killed by a robber for nothing more than the money in their pockets. I watched them die. That man was never brought to justice."

Wally stopped dead in his tracks, frozen, eyes comically wide, as Bruce carried on without him. "Oh _god_…"

Bruce could feel the horror in the younger man's voice, feel it reaching down past those barriers inside him and suddenly he could smell the acrid burning of cheap gunpowder. One hand clenched into a fist as he fought to push back the memories and he was so caught up with fighting himself that he completely blanked out the world around him. When Wally's warm body suddenly collided with his back Bruce flinched and very nearly flipped the slighter man right over his head in a instinctual reaction, but Wally's arms were already wrapped tightly around his waist, trapping his arms at his sides. Bruce simultaneously hated the feeling of being confined and, yet, found himself intensely touched by the gesture. The red head was holding onto him quite tightly, face buried between his shoulder blades and Bruce could feel his jaw move as he whispered, "I'm so, _so_ sorry Bruce. I know what it's like to lose family. When my uncle and aunt died, I was closer to them than my parents, I was lost. Everything stopped and you know I don't stop."

Bruce couldn't answer but his hands rose without his permission and wound themselves around Wally's wrists, hanging on like his life depended on it. Wally squeezed him tighter for a moment before relaxing his grip, and Bruce let go so abruptly Wally stepped around him to peer into his face with a sad smile.

"We're ok right?"

Bruce nodded before licking his dry lips.

"Thank you." He didn't say that no one ever offered him physical comfort, no one ever saw him like this. How did Wally, in all the short time he had really known the man under the mask, manage to get so close to him?

xxx

Bruce realised, once his station relayed the information that the Flash had just beamed aboard the WatchTower, that the empty seat next to him wouldn't remain that way for long. He counted to three point zero seven seconds…

"So did you have fun then?" The Flash grinned at Batman over the top of his oversized iced mocha.

"Unexpectedly."

"Best kind." Wally made a 'mmm' noise of enjoyment into his drink. "I had a night like that too, just…"

"Just what?" Bruce found himself asking, curiosity over Wally's feelings about last night catching him out.

"Well I had dinner out with a friend and he told me something I didn't know and I guess it answers a lot, but I still get the feeling he's hiding something." The younger man let out a shrug before draining his cup.

Bruce carefully didn't react, but answered, "Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky he told you at all."

"Yeah I know." Wally tossed his cup over his shoulder into the bin. "I also know you're gonna tell me given time he might open up more."

The dark haired man hadn't been about to say that, but the words sent shivers up his spine as he realised they could well come true if he continued seeing Wally in a social capacity. The redhead smiled at him, the way he had smiled at him last night; open, trusting, and Bruce averted his eyes, looking at the calculations on the screen, concentrating on nothing but the cold binary codes. He shouldn't let Wally in, he _should_ push him away. Everyone he let in died. He wouldn't let this man die. He had to shut him out again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
Notes: **I am sorry about the delay to this, but now my major fic that I was concentrating on is done, I will concentrate on this one (mostly). Oh and in case no one realised, Alfred is the best.

Bruce found Wally in the dining room that held the portrait of his parents and wondered what Wally was doing there. Bruce rarely came in here if he could help it and certainly hadn't been in with Wally. Even though he couldn't see the vibrant, green eyes, he knew they were looking at the portrait, studying the faces of his parents, faces he had knew every detail of. Now, he found himself checking the portrait less and less often, the pain of seeing the exact way the creases around his mother's eyes when she smiled, the precise line of his father's jaw, set forever in oil on canvas too much.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to be here, to talk to Wally and take that step to push him out of his personal life. Bruce was torn between saying something or walking out again before Wally noticed him, but Alfred had already verbally bullied him out of the Cave. He was always in doubt when it came to Wally, always unable to decide between what he should do and what he wanted to do. The Speedster made him second guess his opinions, proving him wrong, always doubting. The Batman could find patterns in the Joker's murder sprees, he could analyse and categorise things where the human language held no words for it, but he was always, completely confused when it came to Wally West and it scared him like nothing else ever did.

"They don't look the same now," the red head suddenly said, eyes still on the painting, and Bruce knew there was no backing out now. "Since you told me how they died. They, somehow, look sadder, that they aren't here when they should be."

"Don't," Bruce shook his head. He was in no mood to go back there. It was something he thought about far too often, but on his own, in private, not with someone else speaking his thoughts out loud. He was too tired, too worn out, too _sick _of it, to talk about it.

"I didn't mean to make it sound bad," Wally replied. "Just they do. It's like they realised they left their child alone in the world and that was the worst mistake they could ever make…"

"It wasn't exactly a choice," Bruce snapped.

"Alright I… I phrased that badly." Wally fidgeted now, looking at Bruce, his eyes filled with something that could be regret or anger or pity or all of it at once and Bruce hated the fact he wanted to know which one it was, that he cared about the way those eyes were looking at him. "I just mean that…"

"I _said_ don't," Bruce answered harshly. He shouldn't care about anything the redhead was trying to tell him, shouldn't care about his explanations, shouldn't care about his feelings, shouldn't try and listen, shouldn't care about the hurt that flashed in his green eyes, the way his lips tightened around his white teeth. He _didn't_ care. He didn't _care_.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No, you shouldn't have!" Bruce snarled again, channelling the rage that sometimes fuelled Batman in his darkest hours. "You shouldn't barge in into people's houses in the middle of the night! You shouldn't talk about things you couldn't possibly understand like you've got it all figured out! You shouldn't be here!" The look of real hurt on Wally's face had Bruce reigning back his temper a little, before he'd even realised he'd exerted his control. "They are gone. Give them some peace."

"You said… before…" Wally tried, hesitantly, knowing he should be leaving the subject alone, but not being able to stop himself. The dark haired man was sore, clearly still hurting from the memory and Wally wanted to make it go away. "That the man that… shot them hadn't been brought to justice…"

"No," Bruce rumbled, voice low and almost inaudible. "No one wanted to help a nine year old boy then. No one ever will."

"Let me help then!" Wally cried, throwing his hands in the air, suddenly scared by the dark depression in his friend's voice.

"You can't."

"I'm a CSI, I know what I'm doing," the younger man protested. "I could look at the evidence again, I could check…"

"The man who murdered my parents was called Joe Chill," Bruce suddenly couldn't take the pressure of Wally's persistence. Words came from nowhere and he wanted this _over _with. Why was Wally still persisting with this line of questioning? "He was caught and sent to prison for his crimes before being released after agreeing to testify against a mob boss. He was shot outside the court house by a hired gun. I was there. I saw him die. I wanted to…"

Wally was frowning now, hard. "You wanted to what?"

"I… I had my own gun with me, that day… I…" Bruce turned away, staring down at his hands, seeing the gun there again, the first and last time he'd held a firearm voluntarily.

"_You_ were going to shoot him!" Wally suddenly cried, coming around to stand in front of Bruce perhaps a little too fast for a normal man. Bruce wondered if he even noticed he'd done it, noticed he'd given himself away and slipped up again. "You were going to take revenge!"

The dark haired man's jaw clenched and Wally could hear his teeth grind together. "Tell me Wally, what would you do if the two people you loved most in the world were gunned down in front of you and you saw justice fail to protect their memories because the police decided to offer a deal to the man that stole them from you?"

The other man's hands clenched into fists at his side. "I know sometimes the cops get it wrong, that they have to look at the bigger picture, that they hurt people when they do, but that doesn't give you the right to take matters into your own hands and _kill_ someone."

"Well that _opportunity_ was taken away from me," Bruce snapped before turning his back and striding away across the floor, but he paused, momentarily, at the door. "Thank you for reminding me why I don't let people into my home, my life. Now get out."

Wally was so shocked by the parting words he couldn't find any words to reply. He couldn't move to chase Bruce down, to make him understand. He didn't mean to hurt him, but he couldn't fathom why Bruce was so hostile towards him, when all he'd done was offer his help. There were more pieces to this Bruce Wayne puzzle than Wally had ever thought there would be and he was no closer to explaining the connection to Batman. If only Batman had never stolen that stupid DNA sample. If only Batman could tell him something from time to time, then he wouldn't have to be here at all.

xxx

The Flash grinned broadly. "It's Tuesday, must be an alien invasion."

Batman narrowed his eyes at him and the smile faded. Bruce knew he shouldn't react, but their last conversation kept lingering in his mind, reminding him of his irrational hurt and outburst. He had better control than that. Nobody ever got that close and even if they did, he never talked about that, never opened up enough to lose control of his temper. Bruce only ever came close when someone he loved was hurt. Wally shouldn't have gotten to him, not so quickly, not so easily. All Wally had been trying to do was offer his help, so very typical of the young man, but Bruce didn't do apologies. Dick would attest to that.

Batman's irritation at The Flash had been palpable and the rest of the Justice League was showing various levels of discomfort at the tension between them. Wally obviously didn't understand why he was suddenly in Batman's black books and Bruce knew he should be more careful, but he'd manage better if Wally wasn't constantly cracking jokes, attempting to make him smile, or at least not glare at him every time he opened his mouth. He was, as always, trying to help and, as always, it got him into more trouble than he realised. Bruce was aware that the red head was trying too hard to make the lingering bad feelings disappear; he'd been too quick to laugh, and too loudly, when Kyle had told a joke earlier. He'd lingered with J'onn when the Martian had been silent whereas he'd normally speed away bored to go pester someone else.

"It would appear to just be a meteor shower," J'onn continued, ignoring the by-play with steadfast patience. "Though we should be on watch as some of the asteroids could be big enough to survive Earth's atmosphere and cause damage should they impact in populated areas."

"Have we got their calculated trajectories?" Shayera leant forward to look at the screen, her wings blocking the view for most of the rest of them for a moment as she read the information.

"There are five asteroids that are big enough to not burn up within Earth's atmosphere." J'onn highlighted the ones in question, bringing them up on a bigger screen above their heads.

"I'd suggest J'onn, Hawkgirl, GL, Superman and I head into the atmosphere then," Diana commented.

"Divide and conquer, I'm down with that." Kyle cracked his knuckles with a grin.

"I will co-ordinate from here." Bruce stepped past J'onn and sat down at the monitor.

"Um, what about me?" Wally asked, a little miffed that he suddenly seemed to be rather superfluous.

"Go home Flash," Bruce said, voice absolutely emotionless.

"I want to help!" the speedster protested.

"You always do."

Clark frowned at the back of the black, pointed ear cowl. "Batman…"

"What? What can he possibly do? Flash cannot fly and the five of you will deflect the asteroids before they impact with the Earth, therefore nowhere needs evacuating," Bruce replied without looking round. Clark gave Flash a puzzled, helpless look but Wally was too busy glaring at the back of Batman's head to care or notice. Everyone else seemed at a loss as how to defuse the situation and Clark wasn't prepared to start something with Batman, not with the asteroids coming closer. He left without a word and the others followed him, not quite sure how to react now the main person who was able to stand up to Batman was leaving. Kyle gave Wally a shove and when the speedster scowled at him, he gestured at the Dark Knight before a green glow surrounded him, lifting him from the floor and sending him after the others.

Wally frowned, folding his arms over his chest. He felt angry, he felt confused, and he felt kind of like a kid again. Batman always seemed to have a way of cutting him down, making him feel small and useless again and maybe he'd been pushing it earlier. Ever since his fight with Bruce, Wally had been trying harder to make everyone smile, to use their laughter to distract himself from the fact that he'd really screwed up with the billionaire, but even so, the other man's reaction had been seriously over the top, especially for him. He wasn't prepared to go through this twice in one day.

The red head's expression changed, settling into a set jaw and determined eyes. He stepped forward until he was level with Batman sitting in his chair, and firmly ignoring him. Wally looked up at the screen briefly before saying, "I know I screw up. I know I act like an immature kid, but I'm a member of the Justice League and I earned that place. I'm here to _help_ people and there's nothing on this earth that gives you the right to cut me out like this. We're supposed to be equals and I don't know what I've done to make you all broody and snappy with me. If I've done something wrong you could at least have the decency to tell me instead of acting like a moody teenager. It wouldn't kill you to talk you know."

Bruce stopped typing, stopped moving. Just stopped. He couldn't look at the speedster standing beside him, radiating hurt and disappointment, because if he did he'd say something so out of character it would damn him. The guilt that swarmed through him felt almost like physical nausea, compounding the culpability he already carried over his outburst at Wally earlier. He knew he should say something, anything, but patience had never been Wally's forte and it was suddenly too late as the red head made a noise of badly concealed disgust.

"Forget it. It's not worth the hassle or time to try and get you to own up to anything, let alone an apology," Wally snorted. "Looks like I'm finally learning some lessons."

Bruce opened his mouth, turned to Wally, but there was nothing but a blur of after images. The speedster was gone from the room and faint ding announced the use of the teleporters. Wally was gone from the WatchTower and he was far, far too late, again.

xxx

There was nothing in the world that could explain why Wally stood staring up at Wayne Manor. He didn't even remember programming in these co-ordinates into the teleporter. He'd just been upset and angry and not thinking and god _why_ would he leave one asshole of a guy to spend time with another one who clearly wouldn't have forgiven him for being an enormous dick. Was this is what his life had dissolved into? The red head shoved his hand into his face, rubbing at his eyes and then realising he was still wearing his Flash costume.

"Nice Wally, really. Good going moron. Totally living up to Batman's expectations."

He frowned, concentrating and the Flash costume crackled with energy, fading from sight as he manipulated the Speed Force that made up the uniform, replacing it with regular clothes. Wally didn't normally construct his out of work clothes from the Speed Force, but he didn't want to go home right now. He was pretty sure if he left he would never work up the courage to come here again and apologise, because he really should and oh god, he'd been an ass and that was Alfred opening the door.

"Master Wallace. It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Hi Alfred." Wally jammed his hands in his pockets, ducking his head. He'd stopped calling Alfred 'Jeeves' pretty quickly. There was something about the perfectly mannered man that made it not funny after awhile, especially as he never rose to the bait. "Um, if this is a busy time, then I can come back later…"

"That has never stopped you before," Alfred replied and Wally turned his green eyes up to see the faintest of smiles hovering over the older man's face. "But I am currently unoccupied and would very much appreciate the company this evening, if you wish to spend it with an old man. I am afraid Master Bruce is currently engaged elsewhere."

"Thanks," the red head nodded. "I'll wait… I wanted to talk to him." Alfred stepped to one side and gestured for Wally to step into the grand entrance hall so he could shut the door behind him. As he did so Wally's stomach announced its currently empty status to the world at large, and kept it up even after Wally flushed pink and pressed his hand to it. "Man, I'm sorry."

Alfred smiled gently. "Perhaps I should prepare us a little supper. I am unsure as to when Master Bruce will be home so do not feel as if you have to wait for him."

Wally's stomach rumbled again, agreeing for him, even if Wally's mouth wanted to stammer out a no and something about it being rude. The English man turned away, walking sedately down the hallway towards the modern kitchen, leaving the red head to tag along behind, for once unsure what to talk about. Normally he didn't have a problem with rabbiting on blindly about anything that crossed his mind. Alfred seemed to somehow be interested in everything and always politely answered questions on anything. Wally was half tempted to call him an encyclopaedia. His silence now, he knew, was going to give him away that something was wrong, but Alfred appeared content to let him be for now. The butler quietly set about preparing a quick meal as Wally sat at the breakfast bar to watch. He didn't offer to help, not after he proved he didn't have the patience to help at normal speed and Alfred had shooed him away, stating that guests did not help prepare their own food.

Wally wasn't sure where the time went, it normally dragged when his mind was running at the speed of sound, but it didn't seem two minutes before a plate was being slid in front of him. The tantalising smell of perfectly cooked food made his mouth water appreciatively and his stomach rumbled in protest that it was missing out. He grabbed a chip off the plate and wolfed it down, swiftly following it with another. The red head fought his own urge to eat at higher speed, making himself eat agonisingly slowly, or at least it seemed like it to his stomach. Forcing himself to do that make him pay more attention to the company he was in and the fact that Alfred wasn't eating with him.

Wally stopped, eyes wide, fingers at his mouth and stared at Alfred. The old man had just raised one lone grey eyebrow but Wally suddenly felt like he was committing the greatest faux pas, if only he knew which. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Er sorry?"

"The lack of American etiquette never ceases to amaze me," the butler responded dryly.

"Er…" the red head fumbled up his fork awkwardly and started eating again, even slower again. The older man sighed, turning away and Wally wasn't sure whether he was still doing something wrong, whether he should be trying to correct it or whether Alfred had just given up on him. He looked down at his hands, trying to work out what was so bad with his 'etiquette'. Wally was more than a little pleased he knew what that word actually meant.

The red head was so absorbed by his cutlery that when another plate clinked down on the table opposite he jumped a little in his seat. Alfred was settling quietly in his own chair across from him, his own food on the table in front of him and Wally realised with a start that in all the times he'd eaten in the Manor Alfred had never taken a meal with him or Bruce. He watched him wield his cutlery with precision, poise and elegance, making the speedster feel like an uncultured dork and Wally realised something else. Bruce ate like that. He must have learnt his table manners from Alfred and suddenly the red head wanted to as well, so he could fit into this strange world a little better.

Alfred watched the young man with concealed amusement as Wally changed his fork to his left hand and picked up his knife from where it was propped on the edge of the plate. He regarded his own hands, then Alfred, fingers fidgeting on the handles until they mimicked the older man's, instead of switching his fork between left and right hand. Gradually Wally seemed to pick up the differences and relax, making Alfred smile softly, understand a little more how the red head set out to please people without any real intention of doing so.

"Alfred…" Wally hesitated, unwilling to ruin the easy silence between them. "You've known Bruce a long time right?"

"All his life. I was in service to the Wayne family before Bruce was born," Alfred nodded, apparently accepting this line of questioning and Wally had to wonder if he shouldn't have started here or whether this was cheating.

"Then you were here when his parents were killed," the red head fiddled with his fork, avoiding eye contact.

"Yes. There is not a day that doesn't go by where I do not think of them. They entrusted the care of their son to me and I know they would be proud of the man he is today."

"Yeah," Wally nodded, then frowned. "Why does he act like that?" At the older man's curious expression he expanded. "With the public, all those reports. He's so different."

"Necessity. The Waynes would have no private life if Master Bruce was himself, truly, in public," Alfred explained.

"Oh, so why…. I mean, he's not like that with me."

"For which I am grateful. Master Bruce often believes he should hold people at arm's length. Meaningful personal relationships do not come easily to him, despite the image he presents to the media."

Guilt swam through Wally as he remembered the fight that he'd had with Bruce. He shouldn't have pushed, but Wally had wanted nothing but to help. Alfred must have seen the expression on his face because in the next instant a hand was on his shoulder and the red head looked up to find the butler standing beside him.

"I know you two have had a disagreement. Master Bruce had been insufferable…"

Wally cut in, unable to stand the forgiveness in the other man's tone, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have kept at him. God, I couldn't shut up. What kind of insensitive ass keeps digging about a friend's dead, _murdered_ parents? And I want to say sorry, but anything I'll say will just make it worse. I've screwed up big time."

Alfred was well aware of what was said. He was a member of this Bat-family and Bruce's personal relationships were something he kept a close eye on as the man seemed hell bent on destroying them as soon as anyone got close.

"The event of his parent's death haunts Master Bruce, drives him, but that is no excuse to use it to damage something in the present." Alfred's grip tightened on Wally's shoulder. The butler was also well aware of whom the red head was. He kept himself abreast of all villains and heroes to the fullest degree, but he would have to be deaf and blind not to recognise Master Dick's best friend since childhood. The fact that Wally didn't know who Bruce was meant Dick, despite the disagreement lingering with Bruce, had been careful not to reveal his identity and the speedster had not gone looking for information on Dick Grayson. That was the simplest connection in the world, to find Bruce Wayne, in that case, but Wally, for all his loud talk, was actually surprisingly accepting of the need for secrecy.

A single, small ping sounded faintly in the kitchen and Alfred removed his hand. "Please stay and speak with Master Bruce. He will be home soon."

Wally nodded. "I want to sort it. I really do."

"He does as well, despite appearances," Alfred hid a smile and then disappeared into the warren of Wayne Manor. He was careful to make sure the speedster wasn't following before he descended into the Cave to confront Batman, an event that would have most people cringing. Alfred was not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have, but necessity dictated he did something before Bruce lost himself another friend through sheer stubborn pig-headiness. The billionaire could be abrupt, caustic and deliberate cutting when he wanted to, even if he knew better and didn't actually want to be like that. Self preservation cut the person holding it as much as saved them.

The dark haired man was currently logging entries into the Batcomputer when Alfred finally stepped into the cave. He regarded the man for a moment, contemplating his next words, but there was little point in being anything other than direct. "Master Bruce, your guest is here." Alfred now had a special tone for one particular guest and Bruce nodded, about to ask him to send him away when his life long friend continued. "He seems to be quite agitated."

Bruce raised an eyebrow after he pushed the cowl back from his head. "Agitated."

"I believe he has something he wishes to discuss with you, but is afraid that the outcome would be detrimental to your friendship." The black haired man sighed and started walking across the floor towards the changing room he used down in the Cave, Alfred trailing him with a look of disapproval starting to move across his face. "Sir, am I to understand that you have said something to give Master Wallace a reason to be in such a state?" Bruce didn't answer that but he didn't have to for Alfred to understand that he had. Bruce stepped into the changing room so he didn't have to face the other man.

"He was getting too close."

"You are allowed personal relationships," the older man's precise English voice told him, like it had many times before. "In fact, I'm told they are quite good for you."

"Wally discovered Batman stealing Bruce Wayne's DNA from the Gotham PD," Bruce replied shortly.

"Ah and you fear that he will discover your secret." Alfred eyes met his when he finally stepped back out into the Cave. "Even though he carries one of his own and has been shown perfectly capable of keeping such secrets."

"The Flash is a metahuman. The loss of his secret identity would mean much less."

"Master Wallace still has family and friends he could lose," Alfred chided gently. Bruce's mouth flattened slightly, barely enough for anyone to notice but Alfred had known him his entire life. "Your fight pertained to such matters as that then."

"He wanted to help find my parents killer. I told him he was dead," Bruce said, shoulders tightening.

The older man didn't react to the words, but to the tone beneath them. "You gave Master Wallace more details than that."

"And he reacted badly and… so did I."

"That does not dictate that you should ignore him, nor bid him leave the Manor in the fashion that you did," the older man responded.

"You already know what happened." Bruce met his eyes, though he wasn't angry. "Why are you bothering to say all this?"

"You know full well why. Even if it was just for the simple fact that Master Wallace has been a good friend to you, in both his role as The Flash and as himself since he followed you home like a lost puppy, but you have also greatly hurt his feelings. He deserves an apology from you, even if it is just to stop him feeling like he carries all the weight of responsibility."

The dark haired man didn't answer but Alfred wasn't looking for one. He had said all that he had intended to. For all he wanted to, he could not force Bruce to go upstairs and say what needed to be said. That was for him alone to decide. All Alfred could hope for was that Bruce decided not to shy away from his own personal issues for once in his adult life.

Bruce pretended not to watch Alfred leave the Batcave, but he did out of the corner of his eye, whilst his mind ran in circles. It had hurt, when Wally had dug into his past, more than it should, but Bruce was the one who had let him in. He could have deflected the questions, moved the topic of conversation away from his parents because manipulating people was an easy thing to do, but he hadn't. Once Wally had started down that road Bruce had found himself unable to shut him out and if he was going to be honest with himself about all of this, that was the factor that had disturbed him the most. That lack of control over the situation had caused him to first lash out at the red head, then cut himself off from him.

It had never been the other person that scared Bruce when it came to being close. It was himself. It was not being in control. It was trust. It was letting himself have something special and fragile and beautiful when there was nothing safe about his life. Alfred was probably right, he normally was in the end when it came this, and Wally had not deserved the level of animosity Bruce had levelled at him since then. He had also come back here, of his own volition, and waited for him to come home, just so he could talk to him. It grated a little, to be the one 'running away' from his problems, when Wally, with his less than stellar track record, wasn't.

The steps up to the cave seemed to take longer than he remembered and the short walk to the kitchen was silent. Alfred was nowhere in sight, clearly leaving this up to him and giving him the privacy to do it. Bruce stopped in the doorway, unable to take those final steps, unsure how to start. Wally was unaware of his presence, since he always walked silently nowadays unless he concentrated on making noise. The red head was sat at the kitchen breakfast bar, head propped in one hand whilst the fingers of the other dragged over the marble counter. He looked miserable and lonely and that guilt Alfred had deliberately stirred up came crawling up his spine, making Bruce hate himself more for causing this.

He only moved when Wally let out a sigh, barely audible but visible in the way his shoulders shifted and Bruce let his clothes brush the doorframe as he stepped forward, so the swish alerted Wally that he was here. The younger man's head whipped round and he shot to his feet, an attempt at a weak smile playing over his lips.

"Umm, hi."

"Hello," Bruce returned, awkward and then silence fell. The red head dropped his gaze back to the counter top and the billionaire couldn't take standing here. He forced himself to move, drifting to the fridge to find himself a drink, just to have something to do with his hands, with his blank mind. The familiar routine of finding a glass and pouring out the juice was soothing, but Bruce knew Wally watching him and couldn't put this off forever.

"So," Bruce started, turning around and Wally bit his lip, clearly nervous and Bruce halted, not knowing what to say.

"Yeah, so…" There was a pause as the red head eyes cast around almost frantically, like an answer would reveal itself and just as Bruce was about to open his mouth to fill the silence to stop Wally looking so lost, the speedster blurted out. "Look, I came to say I was sorry. It's not my place to dig around in your past, not when it's something so raw, but you're my friend and I just wanted to make sure you were ok," Wally shifted from one foot to another. "I wanted to help you, to… make things right…"

"Wally," Bruce interrupted, "I'm the one that should be apologising. I…" He ran his hand through his black hair, uncomfortable at this strange need to express his feelings and make it right between him and Wally. "After my parents died, I locked a part of myself away. It was too hurt to risk exposing again, but you broke through, despite my best efforts."

"I'm sorry," the red head murmured.

"Don't be… You reminded me I still had a heart," Bruce met Wally's green eyes when he raised his head. "I'm… not good with… feelings. You put me on the back foot and I reacted badly. I shouldn't have."

"So, we're good then, yeah?" Wally shifted closer, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Yeah," Bruce nodded.

Wally smiled brightly, like he'd just been told that he hadn't just run someone's dog over, and Bruce had a moment where he wondered whether the younger man would actually hug him. He was certainly close enough now and the billionaire was unsure whether he was ready for that, but that wasn't what Wally was after.

"Now _that's_ sorted, I've got another bone to pick with you."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"I looked 'escargot' up! It's French for snails!" Wally's finger was sharp as he poked Bruce in the chest with it, but it made Bruce laugh softly anyway. The pain he'd carried around since their last fight shifted and abruptly he felt lighter. Wally was trying for annoyed, but he never once stopped smiling. He felt good enough to run on air. The speedster had no problem being happy because other people were, he lived for that feeling most of the time and right now, it was damn fine to be the one to make Bruce laugh.


End file.
